How Did I Exist Until I Kissed Ya
by digthewriter
Summary: If Harry had thought that Malfoy would stop at his antics of making his life miserable, he was utterly wrong. It also didn't help that he started to have weird dreams about the prat. It had everything to do with bonfires, flowery crowns, and a mystery lover.


**TITLE: How Did I Exist Until I Kissed Ya**

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****Disclaimer:** Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This was created for fun, not for profit.**

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The thing Harry looked forward to the most about returning to finish his Eighth year at Hogwarts was Quidditch. Many students had returned to finish out their year, and though Ron chose to stay home with his family, Harry was glad that at least Hermione was there. Except she was too busy, as per usual: taking on a course load twice more than it was humanly possible.

He laughed at her enthusiasm for her new classes, and was glad that at least she was keeping herself busy while he had decided to avoid everyone by only concentrating on Quidditch.

If Harry had thought that Malfoy would stop in his antics and making his life miserable, he was utterly wrong; for he too had joined the Slytherin team as a Seeker.

There was an "Interhouse Quidditch Exchange" party at Hogsmeade with the Sixth and the Seventh years, and Harry was really looking forward to it. They met at Madam Rosmerta's and Malfoy approached Harry when he'd been sitting alone for a few moments at the bar.

"Not the Captain this year?" Malfoy asked, almost as though he was pitying Harry.

"No, I think just being Seeker will be plenty," Harry answered. He waited quietly for the retort. It had to be coming. With Malfoy, it always was.

"What? They find out you're too busy staring at McLean's arse?"

Harry looked up and scowled at Malfoy. McLean was a Sixth year student that happened to be an _excellent_ Beater.

"Come on, I've seen you looking."

"I haven't been looking at anything!" Harry exclaimed.

"I know everyone thinks you watch your ex-girlfriend and McLean snogging, but it's really because you wish it was you, isn't it? You wish McLean had his tongue down your throat."

It was true. After Harry had completely ended things with Ginny, Lance McLean had asked her out. She'd agreed, and now they were practically inseparable. McLean had popped out of nowhere. He was at least two years younger than Harry and his parents had forced him to stay home from Hogwarts during the war. By the time he'd returned, he'd done nothing but praised Ginny for being a hero too, and had won her over. He was still in Sixth year, but was considered the best looking bloke around school. He was taller than Harry, with dark brown eyes, and hair that never seemed out of place.

Harry would see them snogging randomly in an empty corridor, kind of like the way she'd been with Dean, but this time, there was no monster to make him jealous. "They're sort of hard to miss," Harry said, picking up his pint glass and making a way back to the group.

"Right. Try not to think too much about it before your first game!" Malfoy shouted after him.

"What was that about?" McLean, of all the people, asked. He ran his hand through his hair, and smiled with his eyes. _Blimey_. Harry hated Malfoy.

"Just Malfoy, trying to throw me off," Harry answered and took a swig of his drink. He was not going to think about it anymore. Especially not Malfoy's arse, no he meant McLean's arse. No. He was not going to think about any Quidditch Player's arse. Boy or girl.

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That night, Harry had a very strange dream. He was sitting around a Bonfire with what he thought were his friends, except, he couldn't see any of their faces. Most of the women were wearing a veil and all of them had a crown made of flowers on their head. Harry reached up and touched the top of his own head and felt the softness of the flowers.

Then, someone came and sat next to him. Harry didn't move, he didn't turn to look. It was almost as though he was frozen. The bloke next to him slid his foot under Harry's. Harry still had his socks, but the other boy was bare foot. He leaned in closer and whispered in Harry's ear. Harry felt the bloke's hot breath and shivered.

"You always make me so jealous when you stare at McLean's arse, Potter."

Harry woke up.

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Trying not to think too much about his very cryptic dream, where he was _sure_ it was Malfoy who'd whispered in his ear, Harry headed off to the Great Hall.

"Ready for the game, Harry?" Neville asked, sliding in the seat next to him. Even though Neville had asked Harry a question, Neville kept on glancing towards the Slytherin table—seemingly not interested in Harry's answer.

"What are you looking at?" Harry asked, he quickly glanced towards the Slytherin table himself then returned his attention at his eggs.

"Nothing. Erm...just...nothing," Neville stammered and turned to look at Harry. He smiled, and it was obvious that he was hiding something, but Harry decided not to push it. He didn't need any more distractions that day. He needed to concentrate on winning.

"You'll never believe what I heard!" Hermione arrived and sat across from Harry and Neville, in the spot next to Luna. Luna had started sitting with them for breakfast, and the game that day was Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff, so she was obviously donning Gryffindor colours.

"What did you hear?" Harry asked, she was never the one to gossip so he was sure it wouldn't be interesting.

She leaned in closer to the table and whispered. "There's a rumour that McLean's gay and he's shagging someone on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Ginny and Lance had a fight about it in the common rooms last night." She turned to look at Harry. "Do you know who it is?"

Harry shook his head, but mentally scowled. He was _sure_ it was Malfoy and his posse starting rumours. It had to be. "Why do you look so happy?" he asked, raising a fork at her.

"Because, if they break up, then you and Ginny—"

"Honestly, Hermione. Not with _that_ again!"

"But—"

"I don't want to talk about it!" Harry nearly screamed and everyone on the table turned to look at them. "I have to go," he said and stood up from his seat and practically ran off.

When he turned around the corner, Harry ran into Malfoy.

"Watch yourself, Potter!" Malfoy sneered. "Off to see your boyfriend?" He was grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Malfoy, get out of my—" Malfoy continued to smile, like he knew a secret and no one else was allowed to know it. "Why are you smiling like that?"

Malfoy shrugged.

Harry took a step closer to Malfoy. Malfoy's expression changed to a slight panic. He stepped back. Harry took another step.

"Potter, what are you doing?"

Harry kept walking until he had Malfoy pushed against the wall, but he had yet to lay a hand on him. "Malfoy," Harry whispered, almost in a seductive tone. He leaned in closer, his mouth centimetres away from Malfoy's ear. "Don't. Fuck. With. Me."

When Harry pulled back, he noticed that Malfoy's hands were hovering over Harry's waist. It was looking like Malfoy was ready to wrap them around Harry. Malfoy gulped and glared at Harry. Harry smiled and stepped away completely. "Have a nice day," he said, and walked off.

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The game went fantastically well and Hufflepuff didn't have a chance against Harry and his team. Harry had wondered if McLean had the same need as Harry to prove his worth as an athlete. At the celebration party in the Great Hall, Ginny and Lance snogged wrathfully, perhaps hoping to kill off any speculation of there being trouble in paradise.

McLean was _really _fit, and now Harry _had_ started staring at his arse. Bloody Malfoy had implanted the seed in Harry's head and now it was going to be there for a while. At least, staring at McLean's arse didn't really throw Harry off his game.

"Nice game," Zabini said to Harry as he, Parkinson, and Malfoy joined the rest of the students in the Great Hall the next day.

"Thanks," Harry said with a smirk, and Malfoy pulled Zabini's arm and all but dragged him away. "Oi, Malfoy," Harry called out. Malfoy turned and frowned, then he walked away without a word.

The next time Harry encountered Malfoy in an empty corridor, Malfoy picked up his speed.

"Malfoy," Harry said and Malfoy didn't wait to stop. "Listen, I want to thank you..."

"For what?" Malfoy snapped.

"McLean's arse," Harry answered.

"So you were looking!" Malfoy said, as though he had just won a bet.

"I am now. Thanks for pointing it out to me," Harry answered, grinning. He walked up close to Malfoy again and brushed his hand against Malfoy's. "So, thanks." He tilted his head and winked, throwing Malfoy aback a bit. "I'll see you later." Harry turned and walked away, pleased with himself. Now he was doing the same thing Malfoy had tried to do to him. The Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw game was in two days.

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"Well, have you been staring at Lance's arse?" Hermione asked, her tone in its most disapproving note.

"Of course not!" Harry lied; maybe he had been. Just a little bit.

"So why did you tell Malfoy?" she added, closing her books and turning to glare at him.

"Because, he was trying to throw me off my game by claiming that I was gay. He's the one who started those rumours, I'm quite certain—"

"So you're trying to do the same to him? By flirting with him?"

"I am not flirting with him!" Harry answered, enraged by the accusation.

"So what _are _you doing?" she asked, and when Harry didn't answer, she raised both eyebrows, gave him a once over, and returned to her book. Harry always hated it when she did that. It was like she knew something he didn't and she wouldn't share.

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That night, Harry had another dream. He was back at the Bonfire, he felt the heat of the flames on him, but he couldn't see anything. He reached for his eyes and realised that they were covered with a cloth. Someone held his wrist and pulled his hand away from his face.

"Don't remove it; it's needed for the ritual."

"What ritual?" Harry said, turning his face towards the person on his right. "Who are you?"

"You know who I am," the voice answered. Harry felt the person shift and he nearly panicked. He tried to hold onto the man's hand, but he'd yanked it away too fast. "Relax," he whispered to Harry and Harry felt the bloke come across from him and sat on Harry's lap. He placed his hands on Harry's shoulders and pushed him back.

"What are you doing?"

"What we need to," he whispered.

"The others." Harry was hesitating, but oddly enough didn't want to stop. "They'll see—"

"No one is here." He gently pushed Harry again, and finally Harry relaxed. "You're kind of beautiful, you know that?"

Harry removed his hands from the ground and placed them on the man's hips. Harry didn't know how, but he _knew_ that whoever it was, was smiling. He could picture it. The thin lips widening and Harry wanted to reach up and rub his thumb on them.

Harry's back met the ground and his hips shifted.

"Always, so eager, Potter," the voice whispered. He rubbed his hands down Harry's sides and Harry felt the other man press his body onto him.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked, nervously. The bloke didn't answer, he nuzzled in Harry's neck and Harry tightened his grip around the man's waist. "Tell me..."

"I can't," the voice finally said. "But, I'll tell you this. Everything changed, when we kissed."

Harry woke up again.

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A week passed and the Slytherin vs. Hufflepuff game was coming up. Harry had noticed that Malfoy had consistently surrounded himself by his friends—the few that he had left—and was almost never alone. His plan to continue to torment Malfoy was failing.

His luck changed when Harry stayed late in Potions class to clean a sticky cauldron and he saw Malfoy leaving Slughorn's office.

"Malfoy!" Harry called out and Malfoy turned to sneer at him.

"Leave me alone, Potter," he snapped and crossed his arms.

"Having a bad day?" Harry teased, although he _was_ wondering why Malfoy seemed so upset.

"Just bad— What do you want?"

Harry furrowed his brows and closed the distance between him and Malfoy. He stepped a bit closer. "What is it?"

"Please don't stand so close to me," Malfoy said, and Harry noticed that his grip from his bag loosened as it began to fall to the ground.

"Why?" Harry asked, not moving from his spot.

"I'm having trouble breathing," Malfoy answered. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the wall behind him.

Harry felt his heart sink into his stomach. The way Malfoy whispered his response was so dreadfully similar to the voice from his dreams, and he had an uncontrollable desire to place his hands on Malfoy's hips. Harry didn't resist his curiosity and did exactly that. He leaned in even closer.

"You've got a way about you, Malfoy," Harry said, feeling Malfoy's breath on him; their faces mere centimetres apart.

"You don't realise what you do to me," Malfoy said.

Harry pressed his body on Malfoy's; he remembered the curves of the hips he'd squeezed in his dreams, the gentle shift of his own body when it was pressed against the other bloke's. At that moment it all screamed _Malfoy_.

"You don't like it when I stare at McLean's arse..." It wasn't a question. Harry whispered so softly, his lips barely brushing against Malfoy's. He pushed up some more on Malfoy's body, and felt Malfoy's erection against his own swelling cock.

"Don't..."

"Everything changes when we kiss," Harry said, and Malfoy immediately snapped his eyes open and looked at him.

The shock in Malfoy's eyes confirmed something for Harry that he hadn't even considered. Whoever it was that Harry dreamt about, did _he_ dream about it too? And if it was Malfoy, then only he would know what the phrase meant.

Harry removed his hands from Malfoy's hips and placed them on the wall on either side of Malfoy. He then froze, staring at Malfoy's lips, then to his eyes, then back at his lips. The thin and soft lips he'd imagined from the man from his dreams.

Malfoy tilted his head slightly and leaned in. _He_ was going to kiss Harry. Harry stayed very still and Malfoy continued to lean in the rest of the way until their lips met. He released a small gasp when Harry kissed him back, and Harry took the opportunity to slide his tongue in.

Malfoy pulled Harry's body all the way into him as his hands wrapped around Harry's waist, and his leg enclosed around Harry. It was as though Malfoy had very little to no intention of letting Harry go, and Harry was looking at the situation favourably.

They stayed that way for a while, Harry's hands going under Malfoy's shirt and Malfoy's hands cupping Harry's arse. Their bodies continued to brush up against each other with a kind of need Harry had never experienced before. He felt a heat rise up in his stomach that wouldn't allow him to let go of Malfoy's touch. He wanted it, _needed_ it, more than anything else ever.

"Draco..."

Harry heard Parkinson's faint voice; she was around the corner, and he was sure that she hadn't seen them yet. He opened his eyes and looked at Malfoy who looked panicked. He pushed Harry away and gathered himself; grabbing his bag, he dashed off. Harry stood alone facing the wall he'd just had Malfoy pressed against and felt cold and discarded.

Everything had changed.

Harry had never realised before, what a kiss could be.

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It was raining heinously on the day of the game, and many were certain that Headmistress McGonagall was going to cancel the event. Harry had hoped she would. Then, he'd have a reason to sneak into the Slytherin dorms and find Malfoy.

Unfortunately for him, McGonagall consulted with the heads of the Houses and they all agreed that a few charms would keep everyone safe. Most of Harry's friends were wearing Ravenclaw colours and they all struggled to breathe when they saw Harry with a Slytherin scarf.

"What?" Harry asked, frowning at his friends who all gave him the same disappointed look.

"Why are you supporting the Slytherins?" Hermione asked; she was scowling the least out of the whole lot of them. Scowling, nonetheless.

"Er...I had to pick one and I don't like blue," Harry answered, wondering what else could he have said. _Sorry, Hermione...I kissed Malfoy and I've been having really strange dreams about him so I want him to know that I like him, okay_?

Hermione shook her head and leaned in to whisper something. "If anyone else asks, tell them it's to honour Snape's memory. That's a _much_ better excuse," she said.

Harry smiled at her; she kissed his cheek and walked off. He followed her quietly, self-conscious, yet confident of donning the Slytherin scarf. Merlin, she was brilliant.

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Harry barely paid attention to the game as his eyes were constantly checking for Malfoy. Every time his friends cheered, he knew that meant that the Slytherins had lost a point. He'd gaze over the scoreboard and then glance around the pitch. Malfoy was nowhere to be seen.

Then, without warning, Harry spotted the Snitch. A moment later, Taylor, the Ravenclaw Seeker and Malfoy zoomed right past him. It was as though Malfoy had spotted Harry, along with the Snitch, because he spun around to look at Harry for a brief second before heading after the Snitch again.

Harry watched intently as Malfoy was neck to neck with Taylor. Taylor kicked Malfoy's broom and he went spinning as Taylor headed after the Snitch herself. Malfoy got a hold of himself rather quickly and caught right up with her. Ten more seconds, and the Snitch was in Malfoy's hands! The game was over. Slytherin won.

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It was as though, Harry had been magically warded off from the Slytherin dungeons. If that was even a thing. He couldn't find a way in and he couldn't _bribe_ a Slytherin to let him in.

What had he done that was so wrong? He'd worn a Slytherin scarf during the game to support the House, surely, that would have been looked upon as a good thing. All things considered.

He returned to the Gryffindor common rooms that night, disappointed, and disheartened. Malfoy didn't wish to see him. He was sure that was the reason he wasn't allowed in. But why?

Stripping off all his clothes, but leaving the scarf on, Harry curled up into bed. His mates were all still out and he didn't really care for hanging around others. He only hoped that at least, he still had his dreams of Malfoy to keep him company.

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"Hi, Harry."

Harry found himself sitting by the fire again. His trousers were folded up, and he was staring longingly into the fire. He heard Luna's voice as she came and sat next to him. Where was...

"Looking for him?" Luna asked.

"Where did he go?"

"He just went to get some provisions. You two were at it for a while."

Harry looked at her confused, and then felt a slight flush crawling up his neck. "At what for a while?" he asked.

"I don't know. I was just told to guard the grounds until the two of you were done." She smiled at him and patted his shoulder. "I always knew you were meant to be. Maybe not so much during the war...but..."

"But what?"

"It's time to wake up, Harry."

Harry growled as he opened his eyes and saw Hermione staring down at him. "It's time to wake up, Harry," she said.

"What?" Harry flustered. "How can that— How long have I been asleep?"

"Well, it's eleven o'clock in the morning. So..."

"But, that was about five minutes of my dream!" Harry felt as though he was about to lose his nerve. Why were his dreams so short in the amounts of time he'd actually slept? "Where is everyone?" he asked, trying to shake off the feeling.

"Hogsmeade," she said. "They've all headed off, and I didn't want to leave with you..." She hesitated for a moment. "I saw Malfoy also— Did you sleep wearing the Slytherin scarf, Harry?"

"Oh." Harry looked down, and realised his naked state.

"I'll give you a few minutes to collect yourself, and meet you downstairs in the common room." She didn't wait for an answer, and turned on her heels to walk away.

After she'd left, Harry gathered his trousers from the floor and opted to take a quick shower. Twenty minutes later, he was ready to go.

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After they arrived at Hogsmeade Village, Harry's eyes immediately began scanning everywhere for Malfoy. He looked over at Hermione and it seemed as though she too was searching for something.

"What is it?" he asked. She sighed, and didn't meet his eye. Now he _knew_ she was hiding something. "Honestly, Hermione. Just tell me already!"

"Ron."

Harry's eyes widened. "What about Ron?"

"The reason I didn't want to come with the others was because he said he'd meet me here. And I figured that after you and I got here—"

"Did you really see Malfoy, or did you just lie to me to—"

"No, I did. I needed an excuse to stay back, and when I saw Malfoy heading off with Pansy and Blaise, I figured that I could kill two birds with one stone."

"So now that we are here, you need me to scatter off?" he asked, almost amused. She did sort of do him a favour, and he might as well return it. She smiled, but stayed silent. Possibly, too embarrassed for her small duplicity. "Alright, I'll try to find you in a few hours. If not, I suppose—"

"You'll be snogging Malfoy somewhere?" she asked with an eyebrow raised. Harry didn't even know she could do that.

He laughed. "Or you'll be having a happy reunion with Ron," he teased.

"Harry!" She slapped his shoulder and frowned. "You are _just_ like him!"

"Isn't that why you love us?" Harry said, hoping she'd meant Ron.

She sighed and shook her head. "Yes, and in very different ways." She kissed him on the cheek again and wandered off. He hoped, for Ron's sake, that he'd better show.

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Harry walked around the village, hoping to see a head of blond hair, but was having terrible luck. He'd run into McLean and Ginny three times, and he prayed that they didn't start thinking that he was following them. He cursed himself for not bringing his Invisibility Cloak with him, at least that way, he would have been out of the way.

Where was Malfoy?

Had Hermione really seen him leaving or could she have been mistaken?

Harry doubted himself for coming on so strong to Malfoy. Maybe he shouldn't have rushed into it. But his dream had suggested that everything changed after they kissed. And it had. But had it not changed for Malfoy?

"_Stop sulking around, Draco_."

Harry heard Parkinson's voice from around the corner and did his best to place a Disillusionment Charm on himself. He had never been very good with those, since he'd always had his Cloak to hide him. He prayed that it had worked.

Harry hid behind the sidewall of Marguerite's Jewels as he watched Malfoy, Parkinson and Zabini walk past it on the other side. He kept his distance but followed them, carefully.

"I really don't think it's what you think, Draco," Zabini said, placing a hand on Malfoy's shoulder, and Harry nearly hissed.

"Of course it is. Potter's a prat," Parkinson argued.

What the heck were they talking about?

"He only did it to throw me off. Like what I was trying to do at the beginning of the year," Malfoy said, shrugging Zabini's hold off him. Harry smiled.

"What were you trying to do?" Parkinson asked.

"I tried to tell him that he was a poof. That he was staring at McLean's arse a lot— So he'd be, I don't know, agitated or something. So they'd lose the game and then he—"

"Then he kissed you. And you realised that you liked it," Zabini said.

"I didn't like it!" Malfoy retorted.

"Right, that's why I heard you wanking and calling out his name," Zabini teased.

Parkinson screamed "_What_?"

"Silencing charm. You'd think Draco would have remembered—"

"It doesn't mean anything. Then he wore Slytherin colours, trying to confuse _me_. I nearly lost track of the Snitch three times!" Malfoy debated. "He was only acting like he liked me or something— he must have learned about my dreams."

Harry was following them so closely, that he didn't realise when he ran into a bunch of Fourth years. They screamed and confused him, and he lost track of Malfoy and his friends. He didn't know which way they went.

Eventually, he removed the charm and went into the closest pub. He sat at the bar and ordered a pint as he contemplated what he'd heard. Malfoy thought that Harry did what he did to throw Malfoy off his game. In the beginning, Harry _was_ doing that. But the dreams— Malfoy _did_ have the same dreams.

What was even better news, Harry realised, finally sipping his beer and taking a few of the chips that bartender had served him—Malfoy _liked_ him. He didn't hate Harry; he was just cross because he thought Harry was messing with him. Harry could live with that. He could fix it.

Harry chuckled to himself and finished off his drink then threw a few coins at the counter. He pushed off his stool and turned, bumping right into Parkinson and spilling her drink.

"Watch it, Potter," she snarled, and Harry looked up to see Malfoy and Zabini sitting in the far corner. He must have been lost in his thoughts again and didn't notice them come in.

"Hi," Harry said, ignoring the grumbling Parkinson and looked towards Malfoy, who hadn't seen him.

"Draco doesn't want to talk to you right now," Parkinson stated, coming in between him and the table where Malfoy sat.

"Somehow, I really doubt that," Harry said, walking around her as he approached Malfoy's table. Malfoy looked up at him from his seat, wide-eyed, and almost stunned speechless. "I wore the scarf to show my support. To show that I like— I wasn't trying to insult you or anything."

"How—?" Malfoy scowled, and looked confused at the same time. It was rather endearing.

"I just figured that that was why you weren't talking to me. I mean, you tried to confuse me with McLean and then you spread all those rumours. I reckoned, you just assumed it was payback."

"It wasn't?" Now Malfoy looked surprised, and his eyes had almost lit up. No, Harry thought _that_ was more loveable than Malfoy's confused scowl.

"The kiss. The kiss changed everything," Harry said.

"Yeah. Just like you said—"

"I said?" Harry nearly shrieked. "_You_ said..."

"I thought we had the same dream." Malfoy was almost whispering. As if he didn't want Zabini and Parkinson to hear the details.

"That's what I thought," Harry replied.

"The one with the Beltane ritual."

_Beltane ritual_? Harry didn't understand. He had no idea what Malfoy was talking about. Malfoy's expression went from intrigued to hurt in a matter of seconds. _Shite_. Harry had to do something. "The one with the fire, and the flowery crowns..." he added. Maybe it was from a Beltane ritual, whatever that was. His dream lover did say the word "ritual."

Malfoy smiled again and a heavy weight felt lifted off Harry's shoulder. Merlin, Harry had no idea that of all the people in the world, it was Malfoy's smile he was willing to shift mountains for. He grinned back and buttoned up his jacket. He gestured towards the exit door. "Do you want to—"

"Yeah," Malfoy said, standing up immediately. "I do."

"Oh, don't mind me. I just paid for a round of pints that you're not going to drink," Parkinson said, and Harry had never found her more infuriating.

Malfoy looked at her and grimaced. He picked up his pint glass, and without any hesitation, downed the beer in one go. He slammed the glass on the table and then wiped his lower lip with his thumb. Harry stared at him, sure that his jaw had just about hit the floor.

"That was hot," Harry said, biting his own lip as his cock twitched. He had half a heart, and half a hard-on to suggest getting a room at the Hogsmeade Inn.

Malfoy put on his coat and pulled on Harry's hand to lead him out of the pub. They hadn't walked ten yards before Harry had him pinned against the wall behind the pub. He pushed his erection in Malfoy's thigh as he bit on his neck. "Fuck, Malfoy. Do you always smell this amazing?"

Malfoy groaned, pulling on Harry's hair and pressed their lips together. Harry allowed Malfoy to slide in his tongue into Harry's mouth as he moaned around him. Merlin, he really _wanted_ to get that room at the Inn.

Harry rubbed his hand on Malfoy's groin and just for a brief moment, Malfoy pushed him back. He grabbed his wand and placed a Privacy Charm around them, before returning his lips to Harry's, and Harry's hand inside his trousers.

"Merlin, Potter. I could just come like this—"

"Touch me," Harry begged, and Malfoy unbuttoned Harry's trousers and slid his hand inside his pants. They stood there, against the wall, wanking each other, and Harry had never felt a more amazing pair of hands on him than Malfoy's.

He pushed Malfoy's trousers down, and glided their erections together. He wanted that so much. He needed to feel himself against Malfoy, and even though it wasn't the most ideal way to do it, Harry knew that he couldn't stop himself. He could never stop himself when it came to Malfoy.

Then, Malfoy was coming, spilling himself all over Harry's hand; Harry closed his eyes and bit his lip, feeling the hot come on him as the cold breeze made his ears almost numb. He hadn't climaxed yet, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Malfoy looking at him.

"What is it?" Harry asked, trying not to moan too loudly with each of Malfoy's stroke. His hands were heavenly.

"You're kind of beautiful, you know that?"

Harry remembered that his dream Malfoy had said the same thing and then he was coming as he recollected the feeling of the dream lover riding his body, and as the real Malfoy looked at him so lovingly.

Spent and out of breath, Harry rested against Malfoy, who looked equally winded.

"Fuck...it's cold," Malfoy said eventually, and Harry laughed, his lips against Malfoy's neck.

"Let's get cleaned up and head back?" Harry asked and Malfoy shrugged indifferently. Harry hoped that things wouldn't get awkward again, so as soon as he's spelled their hands and trousers clean, he spoke again. "Do you want to come over to my room?"

Malfoy nodded, smiling softly and Harry leaned in to kiss him again before removing the Privacy Charm Malfoy had placed. They walked back, hand in hand, that nearly well earned them some gasps and glares from the students around, and many others were blatantly pointing.

"So, Beltane?" Harry asked, as they reached the Hogwarts entrance and he led Malfoy towards the Gryffindor Tower.

"Yeah," Malfoy whispered.

"It's a mating ritual, isn't it?" Harry added and Malfoy only nodded this time. "Do you think our future selves came to us in our dreams to make sure—"

"To make sure that we'd bond?" Malfoy inquired this time, and Harry shrugged. It was all a bit weird, he thought. "Well, Father will be pleased, I'm sure." The sarcasm in Malfoy's voice was far too evident.

"My goal in life. To please Lucius Malfoy," Harry joked and Malfoy let out a hearty laugh that Harry wasn't sure he'd heard before. Between the genuinely happy sound and the endearing smile, Harry wasn't sure which he loved more; but he knew that it was something he wanted to see and hear a lot.

"Maybe they were just ensuring that we got to know each other," Malfoy said, after they'd crawled into the hole that led to the Gryffindor common room. Harry thought about the first kiss he'd shared with Malfoy. _Everything changed, when we kissed._

"Yeah. Just because it was a Beltane ritual, it doesn't necessarily mean this year."

"Yeah," Malfoy said, sounding a bit thwarted, like Harry was saying he wanted a chance to change his mind.

Harry opened the door to his dorm room and it was empty as he'd hoped. He pulled Malfoy towards his bed and all but pushed him on it. "Well, either way. We should definitely spend more time together. You know, if we _are_ going to—mate."

Hey lay on his side as he tugged on Malfoy's arm to join him. Malfoy removed his shoes, and lay next to Harry; both of them were supporting themselves on their elbows. Harry inched in closer towards Malfoy, and Malfoy mimicked his move.

"Is that the only reason you think we should spend time together? Because you think we'll mate. Someday?"

"No," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "I kissed you. It was great. I think you're hot. I loved the way you gulped that drink so fast. Again, possibly the hottest thing I've ever seen. We wanked each other in the freezing November weather behind a pub. That's a first for me—"

"Me too."

Harry grinned, and grabbed a hold of Malfoy's hand. "That's good to know." Malfoy smiled again—the smile that Harry was sure would be the end of him. "So, these are all perfectly good reasons to, you know, continue...and maybe come May, we'll want to be more than boyfriends."

"You want to be boyfriends?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow, yet his eyes sparkled.

"Well, unless you're okay with me staring at McLean's arse—"

"Oh, don't even fucking start with that!" Malfoy roared. "That was the worst idea I ever came up with. You don't even know how fucking jealous I was when you told me that you _had_ started staring at his arse!"

"I didn't—" Harry stopped and pulled Malfoy in for a kiss. Malfoy kissed him back again, eventually wrapping his leg around Harry. When they pulled apart, Harry continued. "So, boyfriends then?"

"Fine," Malfoy answered, trying to sound exasperated though his smile had given him away.

What had started as a subdued morning with little to no hope, had turned into a life changing event for Harry. He pulled on the covers that were on the edge of the bed and cuddled himself and Malfoy under them.

Right before he drifted off, Harry gently whispered Malfoy's name, and Malfoy looked up.

"I'm not scared," Harry said.

"About what?"

"About what the future holds, and what might happen to us, come May. If that's what's going to happen. I'm okay with that. I look forward to it."

Malfoy smiled, and cupped Harry's cheek before leaning in to kiss him. He closed his eyes and placed his hand on Harry's waist. "Me too," he said, and drifted off.

Neither of them remembered their dreams or the last bit of the conversation when they woke up a few hours later. But the fact remained, the kiss had changed everything.

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**THE END**

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**Author's note:** There is a small art piece that goes along with the fic. If you want to view the art, you can see it on my AO3 page

archiveofourown/works/1705586

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**Comments welcomed!**


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